"This Christmas, I'm gonna risk it all. This Christmas, I'm not afraid to fall. So I'm at your door with nothing more than words I've never said. In all this white, you'll see me like you've never seen me yet. Wrapped in red."
~ Kelly Clarkston, Wrapped in Red
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As he leant foreword her pulse raced. A small lock of hair tumbled in front of her face, resting just in front of her cheek, but with one swift slide of his thumb, it was brushed out of the way.
Time stopped.
He leaned closer and closer until his lips touched her cheek. As his soft lips left the side of her face, the exact spot where they had come into contact burned and tingled. A small grin crept onto her face and her cheeks painted themselves rose red. He pulled away silently, but their eyes locked, having a private conversation of their own.
He moved in again, this time not aiming for her cheek. He paused, testing the waters to see if she'd meet him halfway. Whatever she was willing.
With her head still spinning slightly, she leaned in and stopped, just a breath away. What was she doing? She pulled away and rested her head against his chest as they began to sway once again, his large arms securely around her waist. "Thank you for dancing with me."
He said nothing but squeezed her a little tighter to show he was listening. He didn't see it, but she bit her lip in thought, wondering what in the world just almost happened. Why didn't she let it happen? Would he let it happen? Her arms tightened just a fraction tighter around his waist- something that didn't get unnoticed by him.
With a heavy heart, he covered it up by clearing his throat and changing the subject. "How did you do that?"
She hummed in question, not bothering to lift her head from his chest.
"The mark is gone." He clarified, his breath fanning where it was, sending a shiver down her spine. Up until this point, she had worn turtlenecks to hide it.
"It's not. Just covered with makeup." She reassured him, melting into his embrace.
The song ended, and just like that, they wordlessly made their way back to their seats. As the song had, the night eventually came to an end as well. Hand in hand, they made their way back to her truck. Her hair was now frizzy from how much she ran her hands though it, her dress was covered by his huge coat, and her makeup was slightly smudged. He thought she never looked more beautiful.
He stopped in his tracks he heard a sniffle. "Hey, what's going on?" He asked, softly, noticing the tears form in her pretty gray eyes.
She laughed lightly. "I'm okay." She sniffled, tilting her chin up to give him a watery smile.
She realized a lot tonight. She realized for the first time in a long time, she was happy. She felt safe. She felt loved.
He held the truck door open for her and she fully expected the door to close once she got settled, but instead, he just stood there. He ducked his head inside, his dark eyes wordlessly scanned over her face. Their faces drew closer together, foreheads touching, noses bumping.
Before he could kiss her, she breathed, "there's no one around. No family."
"I know." He sighed, confirming for her he was doing this because he wanted to, not because they were contractually obligated to.
"What are we doing?"
In barely a whisper, he admitted, "whatever you're willing."
What was she willing? Her back hit the seat, trapped.
"You're scared of me." He breathed, his eyes searching hers.
Her eyes widened at the accusation. "No, I'm not-"
"Not like that." He clarified as his eyebrows pinched together and a sad smile spread across his lips. He paused before saying, "I could make you happy and that scares you. You know once you're happy, it can be taken from you."
She swallowed hard and whispered, "how do you know?"
He brought a gentle hand up to cup her face. "Because I'm scared too."
He's had everything ripped away from him- everything. But now? She was his everything. Losing her was a terrifying possibility. A very real possibility.
Her head tilted up to meet his gaze and she was surprised to see a new expression on his face. It was such a difference to his normal impassiveness expression, making her insides flip. His expression was still serious as it usually was, but she liked how it seemed to soften slightly when he looked at her. Like the way he looked at her was different from everyone else.
He swallowed hard, cheeks burning as he tried really hard to maintain his cool and confident demeanour. His hands nervously twisted in front of him, and his tongue poked out to wet his lips. "Soph," his voice cracked and he looked down. "If you knew how I feel about you..."
Hot tears stung the back of her eyes. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times before she finally whispered, "we can't."
"Sophie-"
"No, it's not you." She cut him off and harshly wiped the swell of tears that gathered in her eyes with the back of her hand. "We don't know how long we have each other for. Hoppers could come in and change everything."
There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn't. He swallowed hard and ducked his head out of the truck.
"I'm sorry." She whispered.
His sad smile broke her heart in two. As usual, he replied with his two usual words of reassurance. This time, she didn't believe them. "It's okay."
The ride back was quiet, suffocatingly so. Not because anyone was angry, but hurting. Distracted with their thoughts. Distracted with the "what ifs."
They plastered on fake smiles as they greeted family sitting around, chatting. Their grins vanished the moment they were back in their room to change.
Sophie got to the master bathroom first and shut the door behind her, locking it, and leaning against the door. She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, her eyes glued to the ceiling to hold back tears.
She sucked in a deep breath and took off her heels, shuffling to the vanity. Her earrings and necklace was the first thing she took off before reaching for her zipper.
Stuck.
Of course at a time like this.
Irritably shy and frustrated, Sophie peeked her head out of the bathroom. "Hey, Cillian?" She called for him.
He was already on his feet, eager to help her with whatever she needed.
"Can you help me?" She asked and spun around, pointing to her zipper.
Wordlessly, he nodded and took hold of her zipper. He unzipped it until it was far down enough for her to reach. She quietly thanked him as she held the front of her dress against her chest so it wouldn't slip out of place.
She took a step back towards the bathroom, but stopped short. She took a breath and whirled back around to face him. "Hey, Cillian?" She called again.
His head perked.
"I'm not ready." She blurted, a bit frazzled. "But will you wait for me to be?"
His head cocked, not understanding what she meant. He thought she meant she wasn't ready to go downstairs yet because she wasn't dressed yet. But as he took in her pleading eyes and desperate look on her face, he realized she didn't mean that at all.
With a comforting smile, he promised her, "I'll wait for you as long as it takes."
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With pajamas on and hot cocoa in their hands, everyone (minus the kids) mingled downstairs.
"Everyone is asleep. Wanna help me play Santa?"
Sophie's jaw dropped. "You mean he's not real?"
Her mom rolled her eyes and dragged her along. Sophie caught Cillian along the way so he too could help.
In her parents' closet was all the perfectly wrapped presents, stacked to the brim. There were a select few in the garage that were too big to fit in the closet, hid under a tarp. Stacking a few boxes at a time, they carried the gifts and tiptoed down the stairs. After a few trips each, they were all under the tree.
"Want to be in charge of being Santa?" Angela asked Cillian, who looked extremely confused.
Through a chuckle, Sophie explained, "you have to eat the cookies, but leave a little piece left."
He nodded and ate nearly the whole cookie in one bite, leaving some behind as instructed.
"Your parents didn't do this when you were growing up?" Angela couldn't help but ask.
Sophie winced, but Cillian was still able to answer. "I'm not sure, I don't remember." He responded, gently. "They-" were brutally murdered- "passed away when I was young."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." Angela said sincerely. "Is this your first time celebrating since?"
He nodded. "It is."
"Oh, dear." Angela cooed before smacking her daughter on the arm. "Why didn't you tell me!?"
"Ouch! Mom!"
"Sorry about my incompetent daughter." She sighed, giving his tree truck for an arm a pat. "Finding out about you was on such a short notice, but I got you this."
He held out his hand and she placed a big red stocking with a 'C' in the middle of it. His brows furrowed and his fingers ran over the soft material as he examined it.
"Santa still has to fill it, but he won't do that until you're in bed." She winked.
He glanced up, his heart swelled. "Thank you." He said as earnestly as he could.
"Anything for my son in-law." She smiled and turned to move some more decorations around. "You can hang it next to Sophie's on the fireplace."
Sophie watched as her mom left, leaving just her and Cillian. With a smile, he proudly held it up to show her.
She couldn't help but chuckle at the utter delight in his expression. Compared to him, the stocking was so small, he could probably wear it as a sock. Even still, she could tell he treasured it.
"Wanna hang it up?" She asked.
He nodded and followed her to the fireplace. An empty hook right next to hers. He placed it there and they both stood back to admire it.
"I told my mom you like chocolate." She said softly, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere.
She could feel his presence as he inched closer. "Your mom or Santa?"
She chuckled, their arms brushing against each other. "She let the big guy know. She has an in with him."
He hummed at that. "Is that what I can expect in there tomorrow?"
"We'll have to see." She said through a smile, turning to face him. "Sorry I couldn't tell her a deer leg or something."
"I'm so disappointed." He joked, his eyes shining as the flames reflected off of them.
They fell into a comfortable silence, no noise except for the quiet crackling of the fireplace. The clock above the fireplace struck midnight and she said through a small smile, "Merry Christmas, Cillian."
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Thank you for 5,000 reads!! Don't forget, the more comments I get, the sooner I post! Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter, the next one will be longer!
Question of the chapter: Do you have any Christmas traditions?
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